


You Can Lead a Horse to Water

by twinfinite



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: An intervention of sorts, Drug Abuse, Emotional Baggage, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves is a Mess, Pre-Canon, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, allison and klaus take on the red carpet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:24:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinfinite/pseuds/twinfinite
Summary: When Allison invites Klaus to her first major awards show appearance, she really thinks it can be a great opportunity to help bridge the gap that has been slowly growing between them since Ben's death.However, Allison has fallen deeply into the world of Hollywood and its many glamorous false realities. Meanwhile, Klaus is becoming increasingly checked out from reality in a far less metaphorical way.





	You Can Lead a Horse to Water

**Author's Note:**

> I started this out with the simple thought that Allison and Klaus would make such a dynamic duo on the red carpet together, and then it spiraled into whatever this is. 
> 
> I did not edit this at all, and maybe I will someday. (Doubtful)

It wasn’t even Allison’s idea to invite Klaus to her first awards show appearance. She’s not proud of this, but it was actually her publicist that had initially suggested it. They’d been in a routine meeting when the topic had come up, and Allison honestly hadn’t been ready for it.  

            “I know that you’ve been given a plus-one for the red carpet next weekend, and you don’t need to bring anyone, of course. But considering how soon your next release date is, it couldn’t hurt to attract some extra press,” her publicist, Jill, had said.

            “What do you have in mind?” Allison had asked, quickly running down a mental list of famous men that she might charm her audience with. It wouldn’t be so hard to get someone that would entice the tabloids, she knew. Rumor or no rumor, honestly. Last week had marked both her twenty-second birthday and the wrapping up of her third major motion picture; her career was clearly gaining some traction.

            “Have you considered inviting one of your siblings?”

            Allison stiffened. She really had not.

Jill clearly realized this, as Allison’s stony expression was a dead giveaway.

“I know you don’t see them very often, but I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t think it would be a really great opportunity. The press loves a good reunion, right? They’ll be all over it.”

Her instinct was to immediately say no and move on, but she surprised herself by actually contemplating it for a moment. Could it really be so bad to open that door just a little bit, just for a weekend?

At first, Allison thought of Luther, the only brother that she regularly spoke with. Though the calls had been becoming increasingly few and far between that past year, she still enjoyed their conversations. It would be nice to see him wear something other than his typical Reginald Hargreeves-approved mission outfit for a change, but she didn’t see him agreeing to come, much less enjoying himself.

Only then did she think of inviting Klaus, and it suddenly felt so obvious. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner? A rush of memories flooded in from that nice little corner of her brain where she usually banished all thoughts of her childhood- the afternoons she and Klaus had spent painting nails and gossiping together, the late-night donut runs, and all of the other in-between moments that had somehow managed to be okay.

Klaus, unlike Luther, knows how to let himself have a good time, she thought. He’d thrive on a red carpet.

Besides, she’d been pushing down a growing sense of concern for Klaus’s wellbeing for a while. She hadn’t heard anything in particular about what he’d been up to, and she’d been a little afraid to ask. Still, Luther’s voice had been taking on a strange, evasive quality whenever Klaus had come up in conversation, and it was beginning to gnaw at her. Inviting him will be killing two birds with one stone, she decided.

“I’ll see if Klaus is free,” Allison told Jill at last.

Jill’s eye lit up with that hungry look unique to someone in the entertainment marketing business who’s just found a perfect route to the spotlight.

“Excellent! Would you like me to call him for you and make the arrangements? He’ll need a flight out here, and a hotel room as well.”

            “No, no, that’s fine! I’ll handle everything!” Allison said, maybe too quickly. She wasn’t quite ready to admit to her publicist that she didn’t have any idea what her brother’s phone number was, and she certainly wasn’t going to let poor, sweet, innocent Jill call the landline at the Umbrella Academy and inquire directly to Reginald Hargreeves about the schedule and location of his adopted son.

            Instead, Allison wound up hastily ending the meeting so she could call Luther, who had no idea where Klaus had been for the last month. Luther then called Diego, who hadn’t seen Klaus for a week. It wasn’t until Diego called a friend who ran in the same circles as Klaus that anyone managed to get ahold of him at all, and Allison was on the verge of breaking down and strong-arming Luther into being her plus-one when her phone finally rang.

            “So, Luther tells me you’ve been wanting to ask me something?” Klaus opened. “Well, it wasn’t really Luther who said that, but he’s the one who gave me your number. What a fun game of telephone this has been! I’ve been trying to guess what this is about all day now…”

            He sounded just the same as the last time she had spoken to him, upbeat and slightly rambling.

            “It’s good to hear from you,” she interrupted gently. “I won’t keep you guessing anymore! It’s nothing important or anything; I just thought you might want to come with me to the People’s Choice Awards show next weekend. I’m up for a supporting role I did last year, and I thought it might be fun to have some company while I have to listen to all of the boring acceptance speeches.”

            Allison felt a stab of guilt for omitting the fact that his presence would be something of a glorified publicity stunt, but she shoved the feeling down. After all, she was still doing her part by reaching out, regardless of the circumstance.

            There was a long moment of silence, and Allison was almost positive he was going to say no.  Yet, when Klaus answered finally answered, he surprised her.

            “I suppose I could rearrange my schedule a bit and squeeze it in.”

            “That’s great! It’s going to be so much fun! If you get here on Friday night, we can spend Saturday picking out our looks for the red carpet...and maybe we can find something for the after party if we have time in between.”

            “Of course we’ll need a separate look for the after party; we’re not animals!” Klaus laughed, and Allison joined in heartily.

            “No, that would be ridiculous!”

 Her laughter trailed off into a sigh. She was hesitant to ruin the moment, but she couldn’t justify ending the call having completely avoided the topic.

“You’re welcome to stay at my house, if you want. I have plenty of room. But I have one ground rule,” she said, trying to keep her tone light yet appropriately stern.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“No weed, and I mean it. Leave that garbage at home.”

Allison expected some pushback, but instead Klaus just barked out another laugh.

“You always did hate the smell, didn’t you?” he responded, deliberately missing her point. “I promise not to stink up your fancy LA mansion. Is it a mansion, isn’t it? Because honestly, dear old Dad has given me such expensive taste - I’ll be disappointed by anything less.”

His ability to dodge serious conversation like a bullet left a familiar tension in Allison’s chest, but she really didn’t feel like she had the energy to come up with a lecture. It was hard enough work just reaching out to her increasingly elusive family and having a surface level conversation, much less digging up old wounds. For today, she could save the “don’t be a such a stoner” talk for Luther and Diego.

“Don’t worry, I think you’ll like it,” she responded. “I’ll see you on Friday then, okay? My stylist will call you later about your clothing sizes and my publicist can handle the plane ticket.”

 This was going to be interesting.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until Allison was standing by the arrivals gate at LAX that it really sunk in that she hadn’t seen her brother in over four years. This wasn’t even intentional; their lives had drifted apart naturally when she moved across the country to start her acting career and Klaus had left home to do…something. They’d seen each other for Ben’s funeral, but that week they’d spent together was beginning to feel like a distant nightmare by then. Besides, neither of them had been quite themselves back then- none of them had. Except for their father, who was frustratingly the same as always.

Allison had to force herself to snap out of those darker thoughts, and she tried her hardest not to blame Klaus’s visit for making her reflect on things she’d rather not consider. This reunion is a good thing, she told herself firmly.

And the moment Klaus finally emerged from the automatic glass doorway, it was much easier to see it that way. The moment their eyes met, Klaus’s face lit up and he did an awkward little gallop over to her, enthusiastic if rather uncoordinated. She pulled him into a hug.

“You look like a total movie star diva,” he commented into her hair.

She laughed at this, mostly because it was true: she was wearing a large hat and sunglasses to avoid being recognized by anyone, and her whole outfit probably cost more than Klaus’s entire wardrobe, quite frankly.

            They broke away from the embrace and Allison got her first opportunity to really take in Klaus’s appearance. Though her outfit may have been more expensive, his current look had her beat for creativity. She would never have thought to combine burgundy velvet pants with what looks to be a fuzzy child’s sweater underneath an equally fuzzy black jacket, but he somehow made it work, maybe. She wasn’t quite sure. His subtle makeup definitely looked nice, though, and she felt such a joy to actually see her brother able to express himself the way he wanted to after so many years of being rigidly policed by Reginald.

            “It’s good to see you, Klaus,” she said warmly. “You look like a bit of an LA diva yourself, you know.”

            “Really? Excellent, that’s what I was going for!” He spun around with a dramatic flourish, almost knocking over a woman with his carry-on bag as she innocently walked by. The lady threw him the finger and glared nastily back towards them, but he seemed completely unfazed.

            “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Allison said hastily, and she pulled him off towards the parking lot before he had the chance to unwittingly enrage anyone else.

            “So, what have you been up to lately?” she asked as they walked.

            “Oh, you know. This and that,” Klaus deflected.

“What the hell is that supposed to even mean?” Allison fired back, frustrated both at him and also the fact that it had only taken five minutes for him to irritate her.

Klaus didn’t seem too bothered by her short fuse; instead, he blinked back at her as if he was confused by her sudden change of temper. He shrugged.

“I don’t know. Nothing as interesting and fantastic as being a movie star or an astronaut but nothing as obnoxious as fighting off robbers and murderers for a living?”

Allison took a deep breath, resolving herself not to expect too much too quickly. They had all weekend, she remembered. Literal years worth of catching up didn’t need to happen the second after a long flight.

As if to prove this point, Klaus fell asleep just minutes into the drive home. He looked pale and tired in the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in through the car window, and he slept just as uneasily as he always had as a child.

Once the car ride was over, Allison brushed Klaus’s shoulder to wake him up. Despite her gentle touch, he startled right out of sleep. He looked young and unsure about where he was at the moment.

“Are you ready for the house tour?” Allison asked with forced cheer, hoping to help orient him again.

“Of course,” Klaus responded, not missing a beat. If he noticed Allison’s troubled look, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  

* * *

 

After a lengthy, thorough tour during which Allison was suddenly very aware of the fact that she didn’t have a single family picture anywhere in her expansive home, they settled down together in her cozy living room.

“Do you want to order Chinese food? I could get something fancier, but honestly I just really want a crab Rangoon right now.” Allison inquired.

“Sounds perfect, as long as you let me pick a movie to watch,” Klaus answered, his face taking on a curiously mischievous look.

“What do you have in mind?”

 With that, Klaus reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a freshly purchased DVD copy of her latest movie.

“Oh, come on! Did you really buy that just to tease me?”

“This is the one you’re nominated for, right? How could we possibly watch anything else? In fact, you need to autograph my copy,” Klaus insisted, and Allison really couldn’t say no to his earnest grin. Anyhow, she had to admit that it was a pretty good movie.

“Fine, but don’t you dare make fun of me!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it! In fact, I was hoping you’d give me the insider commentary.”

“Deal.”

The food arrived halfway through her detailed explanation of the wardrobe choice in her character’s first appearance, and they paused the movie just for long enough to grab some chopsticks and settle back onto the couch.

Allison tried her best to focus on providing the most entertaining movie commentary a brother could ask for, but she couldn’t manage to completely ignore the undeniable strangeness of the moment. What’s more, she couldn’t stop herself from noticing the way Klaus grew bored of the food almost immediately and instead chose to fidget with his chopsticks, unable to stay still. He seemed uncomfortable, awkward.

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asked during a lull in the action of the film.

Allison felt like a bad host as well as a bad sister.

“Only some red wine, and I don’t know how you feel about the lo mein and wine combo.”

Klaus just shrugged. “I’ve had worse combinations, trust me.”

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the night became much less awkward after a couple glasses of wine. Her commentary got funnier, Klaus began finally loosening up, and by the end of the movie, they were hardly paying attention. After all, her character had died, so what was the point?

 Around midnight, Klaus convinced her to break into a second bottle just a little bit, and all tensions seemed to fade away. When Allison finally excused herself to go to bed, it was after an hour of mindlessly speculating on which celebrities would be the best lay.

It was going to be a fun weekend, Allison thought, before drifting off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Allison woke up at 9 AM the next day with a mild headache and a terrible taste in her mouth. She had never really been one for drinking very often; the two and a half glasses of wine from the night before had been just about as much as her tolerance could handle. Still, all it took was a hot shower and a cup of coffee to make her feel almost completely rejuvenated. 

As she poured out a cup of coffee for Klaus, she noticed that neither of them had bothered to clean up the mess of half-empty Chinese food containers that was littered all over her coffee table. Curiously, though, Klaus seemed to have cleared out the wine bottles and glasses, as there was no evidence of that aspect of the night anywhere to be seen. He earned himself only partial credit for his conduct as a guest, she decided.

Allison looked down at her watch – 9:32 AM now. Her appointment for her final dress fitting was in less than an hour and a half and she needed to bring Klaus along so he could pick out his red carpet attire as well. She brought the freshly brewed coffee along as a peace offering to make up for a semi-early wake up call, but when she looked into her guest bedroom, Klaus was nowhere to be seen.

He wasn’t in the bathroom either, or the second guest bedroom, or out on the deck. It wasn’t until Allison went to clear away the old Chinese food that she noticed her brother lying in a heap on her living room couch, still fully dressed. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so bad about needing to wake him up.

“I gave you a perfectly good room to sleep in, you know,” Allison remarked loudly as she prodded Klaus awake.

“But your couch is so nice…” Klaus murmured, moving away from her touch.

“So is my guest bed. I put my softest sheets on it for you before I picked you up from the airport.”

 “…was tired...jetlag’s a bitch.” He waved a hand dismissively.

Allison rolled her eyes.

“Look, I know you’re jetlagged, but we need to get moving so you don’t turn up at the red carpet wearing last season’s leftovers.”

Klaus blinked up at her absently.

“What time is it, again?” he asked.

“It’s almost 9:45. Come on, get dressed…or I guess get dressed in something new.”

At last, Klaus flopped gracelessly off the couch and made a move towards his bag. Allison left him to himself for long enough to make herself some toast, and when she returned he was at least wearing a different, if equally fluffy, shirt. He was still lying on the couch, looking barely awake and smoking a cigarette.

“Relax, it’s just nicotine,” he said, misinterpreting her stony look.

“Ready to go? I left some toast and coffee in the kitchen for you.”

Klaus didn’t answer; he was staring off into the corner of the room with an irritated look. Allison tried to follow his gaze before remembering what he was probably seeing.

“Is someone here?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. This was one part of her brother that she certainly hadn’t missed, but it was also one that she knew he had never been very good at keeping to himself.

“Just…I’m not going to…not exactly like you’d think,” he said, as if that was helpful. She didn’t even feel certain that he was talking to her.

“Do you still talk to them much, now that Dad doesn’t make you?” Allison ventured.

“Do you still Rumor people?” Klaus evaded, rubbing his eyes wearily. He looked nauseous, Allison realized, and her eyes narrowed.

“Are you hungover?”

“Why, of course not! It was just a little wine.” Klaus defended. “Now come on, can we please get going before I end up wearing something dreadful tomorrow?”

As much as Allison’s basic instincts screamed at her to push back at him, she had enough self-preservation to let the topic rest. She got the sense that if they pushed each other much further, one of them would probably end up killing the other. Still, looking over at Klaus’s scrawny frame, she couldn’t help but think she’d be the one winning that fight to the death.

“I’ll go get my keys.”

 

* * *

 

By some miracle, they managed to weave through all of the dense LA traffic and arrive to meet Allison’s stylist by 11:03.

“Fashionably late,” Klaus noted, exiting the car and peering through the window of the boutique that Miranda had requested they all meet for fittings.

The stylist, Miranda, greeted Allison and Klaus on the curb, smiling brightly. She had been working with Allison for the better part of her budding career, and they had been successfully making the front page of all the best fashion magazines in recent months. Allison leaned in for a quick side-hug before turning to Klaus for introductions.

“Miranda, this is my brother Klaus.”

Klaus swooped in for a handshake, two-handed and enthusiastic. Allison felt herself tense automatically, and she realized that she was fairly nervous about how Klaus was going to behave himself around her management team. She kicked herself for not giving him more ground rules on his composure.

“I’m a huge fan of your work,” he said, semi-genuinely. “Poor Allison never got to wear anything but a horrible school uniform for most of her life, so I’m glad she’s had help rehabilitating her fashion sense.”

“Klaus,” Allison warned with a glare. This only warranted a slight, unapologetic shrug. She should have made it extremely clear that she liked to strictly ban nearly any talk of the part of her life prior to her move to LA. It was an open secret, as Miranda and Jill and literally everyone else in Hollywood knew her name and could see her umbrella tattoo, but there was also an unspoken rule about bringing it up amongst those in her inner circle.

Klaus, she realized, was not at all in her inner circle.

            Miranda’s smile faltered, and Allison was forced to put aside her desire to make her rules explicitly clear in favor of charming her way out the awkwardness.

            “I’m definitely very grateful for Miranda’s input,” she said sweetly. “If only we were all so lucky.”

            She gave Klaus’s outfit a conspicuous once-over, to which he scoffed, “I thought you said you liked my look!”

            Allison could feel Miranda’s gaze follow her own, and she felt for the first time as if she was seeing her brother from an outsider’s perspective. With his unkempt hair, bizarre outfit, now smudged eye makeup, and gaunt appearance, he left a strong impression that Allison wasn’t sure was good.

            “Well, come on in, both of you, and we’ll get to work!” Miranda said, mercifully segueing them from that dangerous territory. “Save the sibling banter for the red carpet.”

With that, they walked into the shop and followed Miranda into a private backroom that was completely lined with clothing racks draped with designer pieces. Klaus, who had seemed distracted by something Allison couldn’t see as they were walking in, suddenly snapped to attention when he laid his eyes of the wealth of beautiful clothing.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

Allison laughed, remembering her first ever fitting. “Yeah, that was my initial reaction, too.”

“I made sure to pick out a pretty big assortment of options because I wasn’t sure about what you had in mind,” Miranda said. “Ideally, you’ll be somewhat coordinated.”

“Don’t worry, we have plenty of practice looking coordinated,” Klaus quipped absently, and Allison stifled the urge to openly roll her eyes.

“Let’s start with you, okay?” Miranda pointed at Allison. “The dresses I’ve pulled for you are on the right. They’re organized by color. I was thinking that maybe we'd do a nice orange or yellow this time.”

“What about black?” Klaus interjected. “You know, because she’s nominated for a character that kicked it by the end. Funny, right?”

Miranda glanced towards Allison, stricken. She clearly was looking towards Allison to do the honors of shooting him down, but to her own surprise, Allison didn’t hate the idea.

“I haven’t really worn a little black dress in a while. And it’s…a little funny.” She threw the last part in as a sort of peace offering. A subtle apology partially for making fun of his outfit but mostly for the fact that this was all set up for publicity’s sake.

“Ah, well in that case, let’s take a look at some of the ones over here,” Miranda replied. If she found Klaus’s morbid humor to be distasteful, she didn’t make any indication. She just sprung into action, moving towards a rack in the very back of the room and strategically plucking off several heavy garment bags.

After years of having to dress up in clothing worth thousands of dollars in order to make an impression on the press, Allison was very used to the process of trying on over thirty looks in one sitting before coming up with something that both she and Miranda agreed on. She wasn’t, however, used to having another voice added into the mix. Just as she expected, Klaus seemed to enjoy the process immensely, and he had strong opinions.

“I wouldn’t even bother with that one; it’s boring.”

“Just because it doesn’t have any ruffles or spikes doesn’t mean it’s boring!”

“What about that one over there with the cutouts?”

“I’d rather not be on TMZ the next morning with the headline ‘Allison Hargreeves has embarrassing nip slip’, thanks.”

Allison also was known for her strong opinions, and there was really no logical reason why the Allison/Klaus combination should ever have been a practical or even realistic choice. And yet, the moment they both landed on a dress that met both of their standards- and Miranda’s – it felt almost magical.

It was a $7,000 Valentino dress that ended up winning them over, a jet-black, mid-length gown that looked deceptively simple until the intricate beading caught the light.

“You look like a widowed gold-digger on her way to her husband’s funeral after you’ve just gotten away with his murder,” commented Klaus. Somehow this makes Allison appreciate the dress a little more.

“It looks like we have a decision!” Miranda exclaimed. “Perfect – now I can work on accessories and shoes. I should have it all together by noon tomorrow.”

“My turn, then?” Klaus said, already making a beeline to the clothes Miranda had picked out as his options. It was an admittedly smaller selection.

“I have to say, it was a bit of a challenge to find something both in your size and, as Allison said, kind of eccentric. Do you want me to show you what I’m thinking? I’m pretty proud of this one, and it would go pretty well with Allison’s pick, too.”

“Oh, please do.”

“Here, try this on.” Miranda handed Klaus a black garment bag.

Within moments, Klaus reappeared, and after one look Allison decided that she probably needed to give Miranda a raise.

“Oooh, I like the way you think!” Klaus exclaimed, giving himself a once over admiringly. “I look like a delightfully slutty orchestra conductor.”

Allison snorted. That was one interpretation of the look, which consisted of slim-fit black pants, a semi-sheer, high-necked tunic, and a very long jacket.

“There’s only one problem, though,” Klaus said, referring to the fact that the whole ensemble was about a full size too big. “I guess I was a bit off when I guessed my measurements.”

“That shouldn’t be too big a deal, as long as I get it in for tailoring as soon as possible. So, you’re happy with this one, then?” Miranda dismissed his concerns.

Allison wasn’t as dismissive. Seeing Klaus swimming in clothes that should by all means fit a normal twenty-year-old male bothered her for reasons she couldn't quite place. She found herself scrutinizing him once again, frowning.

“If we’re all done here, why don’t we go out for lunch?” she suggested.

She knew she couldn’t undo what looked to be Klaus’s innate disposition to give not a single fuck about his general wellbeing in just one afternoon, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

 

* * *

 

When 5:30 PM on Sunday arrived at last, Klaus and Allison had clocked in literal hours of preparation. They had spent the remainder of Saturday driving all around LA for hair coloring for Allison, a haircut for Klaus, and a joint appointment to get their eyebrows waxed and their nails done in a matching blood red color.  Sunday morning was spent consulting make-up artists and hairdressers on exactly what needed to be done, and the rest of the day had been mostly spent making those smoky-eyed dreams a reality.

By the end of it, they were a sight to behold.

“Shit. We’re hot,” Klaus summed it up.

“Damn straight, we are,” Allison agreed. “Come on, I think that’s the driver honking.”

The pair gingerly folded themselves into the wide backseat of the hired car, careful not to leave a single wrinkle. 

Not counting the driver, this was the first opportunity that Allison had managed to get Klaus entirely to herself since the morning, and she couldn’t resist using it.

“Okay, so I have a couple more ground rules,” she started.

“Do you now?” Klaus prodded, his face unreadable but clearly unsurprised.

“This is your first red carpet, so I just want you to be ready. The reporters are going to ask a lot of questions, and they aren’t all going to be worth answering. Hardly any of them are actually worth giving a straight answer to, actually. It’s probably best that you say as little as possible to those vultures.”

“So…your rule is basically…you just want me to be a pretty face? You don’t want me saying anything?” Klaus laughed a little, incredulous.

“I mean, you’ll have to face a lot of annoying, bullshit questions about our childhood and what happened to everyone, and I think it’s best just to smile and say nothing. Just in case.”

“Yeah, of course she does,” Klaus responded quietly, not to her.

“Can you not do that?”

“Do what?” Klaus asked in such a genuine way that Allison almost wondered if he honestly didn’t realize what he was doing.

“You know what.” Because he must have.

“Is that your only ground rule, or do you have anything else I’m not allowed to do?’

“Well, just don’t drink too much. And that’s it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Klaus responded unconvincingly. “Four drinks, max.”

“Klaus.”

“Okay, fine, three drinks then. Jeez.”

The remainder of the ride was spent in silence, and Allison was caught between feeling completely justified in her demands and feeling like an absolute asshole. It was for the best, she told herself. Neither of them would be happy the next morning if Klaus made a fool out of himself.

The car eventually pulled up to the curb in front of the theater, and the tense silence was cut by the harsh sound of camera flashes in the distance. Allison took a deep breath and tried to stifle her uncharacteristic nervousness.

“Well, time to dazzle them,” Klaus said, opening the door and stepping towards the security line.

In minutes, they were there at last, walking down the red carpet. Both Jill and Miranda had immediately cut through the sea of reporters and photographers to join them, and Jill took charge. She efficiently directed them to the location of their first few photos.

Klaus allowed himself to be directed without a word; he looked mildly dazed by the overstimulating environment, not to mention the constant stream questions being thrown their way at every opportunity.

“Allison, what inspired this reunion?”

“Why did you choose to invite Klaus instead of Diego or Luther?’

“Who are you both wearing?’

“Does this mean that the Academy is ready to come back into the public eye?”

“Klaus, will you comment on your current status in the Umbrella Academy?”

“Is tonight’s look a nod towards your sexuality?”

Allison draped her arm around Klaus’s shoulder almost protectively and whispered, “We only have to take a few pictures together and then you can go relax, maybe meet a few stars.”

“Are these reporters always so rabid, or are we just especially exciting?” Klaus inquired, referring to the fact that they were attracting a visibly larger throng of hungry-looking reporters than most others.

“I’d say the family reunion thing is working its magic,” Jill commented. “Remember Allison, use as many opportunities as you can find to mention something about your upcoming work.”

After a beat, she paled, realizing what that sounded like.

“Well, I’m glad to be of service as your handy press magnet.” Klaus’s smile didn’t waver, but Allison knew him just well enough to perceive the hurt underneath the sarcasm. 

“It’s been a delight having you here,” Jill said diplomatically.

Allison cringed internally. As if more fake Hollywood schmoozing was what this situation needed. Sadly, she never got the chance to get a word in before she and Klaus were swept off to take photographs together. To his credit, Klaus made no indication that anything had happened at all. He and Allison held each other and beamed towards the cameras with the same radiant, carefree smiles they’d been taught since childhood. After a while, Klaus was shuffled away by an event manager to be taken to their seats while Allison took questions.

The interviews passed by in a blur. Allison knew she came off just as charismatic as usual; this whole process was muscle memory to her by now, easy as breathing. Her mind was elsewhere, however, and it didn’t help that a larger number of questions than usual were about her family.

 

“Should we expect to see more cameos from your brothers in the next few months?”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone else would have as much fun!”

(This was technically true.)

 

“How does your father feel about your nomination tonight? Will he be watching?”

“I’m sure he will.”

(A bold-faced lie.)

 

“How often do you see your siblings?”

“We try to keep in touch as much as we can, like any other siblings.”

(So many lies.)

 

Allison expertly avoiding any real emotional depth, but each question still left her with a deeper feeling of regret buried in the pit of her stomach. When she escaped to her assigned seat at last, she felt drained. Klaus’s seat was curiously empty, but after just a minute he reappeared, a glass of whiskey in each hand. Wordlessly, he handed her one of the glasses. She took a gracious swig.

“Cheers,” said Klaus, following suit. “Thank Christ there’s an open bar.” 

“Cheers,” she echoed. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to make this better, the sound of the cheering crowd would have drowned out her words even if she had managed to find the ones to use. The show was beginning.

 

* * *

 

She won, of course. She didn’t even have to Rumor anyone for it, either, and that felt nice in a way that was unfamiliar to her.

She made sure to throw in a line thanking Klaus for being there during her acceptance speech, tacking on “and I’d like to thank my brother for being here with me today” right in the middle between gratitude for her costars and her manager. She looked out into the crowd while saying it, searching for his reaction. He was smiling broadly, well aware that he was going to be on camera.

It wasn’t much by way of apology, but she hoped it counted for something.

After her acceptance speech, she was pulled away for another round of photos and more interview questions. Thankfully, these interview questions were much more on topic, focusing mainly on her reactions to the award and her future career goals. It seemed like a century before she was left alone to rejoin Klaus in the audience, though in reality it was less than a half hour.

When she retook her seat, Klaus had a fresh drink in hand and a soft, more genuine smile. She leaned in to hug him, and this time it wasn’t just for the camera’s sake. It was good to share this with someone, just this once.

“Nice work,” he said, patting her shoulder gently. “Maybe if your next character doesn’t get murdered halfway through the movie they’ll give you an Oscar.”  

“How rude of you to assume that my character needs to be alive to warrant an Oscar,” Allison retorted.

“No, no, you’re right. Hang on, do you have M. Night Shamalan’s number? I think I have his next lead actress.”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll be at the after-party.”

Upon mention of the after-party, Allison remembered that she still really needed to get Klaus alone and make sure he didn’t feel like he was being completely used. The smart thing to do would be for them to just go home and spend the night trying to actually get to know each other, and to work past some of the issues that kept cropping back up between them.

Still, as strange as it was that they were pretending like things weren’t awkward, Allison couldn’t resist the urge to just sweep things under the rug, at least for now. She’d just won her first major award and she wanted to enjoy it.

Torn, she compromised with herself by throwing out the options. “But we don’t have to go to the after-party if you don’t want to, you know? We can just go home once this is all over, get into our pajamas, and watch some dumb movie. One that I’m not in, this time.”

Klaus looked at her like she was crazy. “Are you kidding me? I fly all the way out here to see you win a big award and we don’t even hit the town afterward to celebrate? Criminal. Unspeakable. Absolutely not.”

 

And so, when the endless pageantry of the show finally came to a close, they paused only for a quick outfit change before directing their driver to take them to the lounge where the official after-party was being held. Allison’s new look included a slightly more casual light blue dress and a pair of heels that brought her almost up to Klaus’s height, while Klaus opted for red leather pants and a cropped white shirt.

Stepping out of the car together, Klaus gave them both an assessing look.

“Yep, still hot,” he declared. “Just making sure.”

Allison laughed and pulled him towards the entrance.

“Let’s stick together, alright? Please don’t run off with some celebrity while I’m not looking!”

Or run off to say or do something regrettable, she wanted to say.

“I wouldn’t dare! You worry too much.”

They weaved their way through the tight security line easily, a great perk of being one of the night’s big winners. Once inside, Allison felt engulfed by the thumping music and sea of A-listers. Looking towards Klaus, he didn’t seem to be taking to the scene as quickly as his reputation for partying would have her think.

“Let’s have that third drink, okay? We’ll have to take some more pictures later, but we can relax a little bit now.”

Soon, they were both happily sipping gin and topics out of plastic cups, surveying the crowd before them.

“So, have you hooked up with a celebrity yet? Oooh, anyone here?” Klaus asked. “Wait, let me guess…Christian Bale?”

“Really, that’s your guess? I’d definitely say Chris Pine would be my first pick before him. And no, I haven’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“Wait, does that mean I get to help you pop your A-list cherry? Because it would be my honor.”

Allison stopped listening at that point, catching sight of Sandra Bullock. They’d been in the same category, and she had been meaning to speak to her all night about a potential role.

“Hold that thought!” Allison cut in. “I need to do a little networking.”

She would only leave for fifteen minutes at most, she decided. Anyway, she would have liked to think that Klaus didn’t need babysitting.

And she nearly stuck to her word, too- she managed to leave the groundwork for a possible collaboration in just twenty minutes. Record time.

Klaus wasn’t back at their table when she returned, but he wasn’t too hard to find. It seemed that he’d finally found his rhythm at the party; he was out on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the current song alongside a number of other partygoers.   

“Having fun?” Allison asked him, after laboriously dodging through the crowd of drunken actors.

“Allison!” Klaus cried in recognition, dragging out the syllables of her name. “I’ve never been to a party with soooo many pretty people.”

 He laced his arm around her in a messy side hug before continuing. “And you’re like Cinderella.”

“What are you talking about?” Allison asked, almost falling over with Klaus’s added weight.  

“Does that mean I’m the pumpkin carriage? ‘M not the prince guy, that would be Luther.” His words came out in a jumble, and suddenly Allison knew.

In the few minutes that she’d left him alone, he’d managed to get himself wasted.

“How much did you drink? I was hardly gone for fifteen minutes!” Allison exclaimed. Instinctively, she began dragging him away from the dance floor and its population of potential witnesses, but he stumbled away from her grasp. He had to lean on a table to keep from crashing to the floor.

“Seriously, what happened to our rule? We agreed!”

“Didn’t break your rule,” Klaus mumbled. “Only had three.”

Allison grasped his arm once again, and this time she successfully managed to wrestle him back to their previous table. She sat him down and fixed her hardest, most disappointed glare on him, which was a useless endeavor given his current inability to focus his eyes.

“What did you take while I was gone? Molly? Acid?” she ground out, seething.

“Oxy-something. I don’t know. Why, do you want some?” Klaus answered, laughing.

“How do you not know? Klaus, that’s so reckless! Who gave it to you?” She cast a glance towards the crowd, scoping out who might have been the provider.

“Hey, hey, stop it- don’t blame them! I brought it myself. Listen, I didn’t break any rules…can I please just go back to dancing?”

Allison felt like her head was about to burst open at the seams. Where to even begin with that? She heaved out a sigh, trying to regain enough sense of sanity to get through the rest of the night.

“First of all, we’re going home. Second of all, I thought it was goddamn common sense not to take…random what-ever-it-is! Come on, we’re going. Now.”

“Hey, are you guys okay?” called a voice that Allison didn’t recognize. The owner of the voice looked only somewhat familiar, but he mainly looked concerned.

Great, now they were attracting attention.

“We’re fine,” Allison snapped hastily.

“Do you need me to call a cab or something? He doesn’t look so good.”

Looking back over at her brother, she could see this was true. Klaus was becoming increasingly pale and slumped over.

“Hey, so rude,” Klaus slurred. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

“It’s alright, I can handle this,” Allison said, taking Klaus by the hand and trying to heft him towards the exit. This was clearly a mistake, as the forced upward movement proved to be too much for Klaus’s inebriated state.

“Whoa, too much, I’m gonna…”

He promptly threw up all onto the helpful stranger’s dress shoes.

“Ugh!” cried the stranger, and Allison wanted to die of embarrassment. They were attracting even more curious eyes, and Allison wished she could just rewind time and undo anyone’s memories of this nightmare.

Without thinking, the words fell out.

“I heard a rumor…that you don’t remember seeing Klaus at this party.”

Everyone’s gaze immediately left Klaus’s prone form, and with that, Allison dragged Klaus out of the lounge and into the nearest car.

“So…you do still rumor. Huh,” noted Klaus absently, leaning heavily on Allison in the backseat of a cab. Allison was fairly certain she’d be paying extra charges for this particular ride.

 

* * *

 

That night, after she had deposited her passed out brother into bed, Allison barely slept at all. Even in her humiliated rage, her fear that Klaus would die choking on his own vomit overcame all else, and she spent the night intermittently checking to make sure he was breathing.

She also felt justified in searching through his bag, and it didn’t take her long to find an unmarked pill bottle hiding at the bottom.

When Klaus woke up the next day, Allison was there, steeled for an interrogation. In one hand she held a tall glass of water, and in the other she held up the bottle.

“Drink this,” she commanded, forgoing pleasantries.

He took the offering silently, clearly disoriented and looking like death.

“Where the hell did you get this from, Klaus?” Allison demanded, brandishing the bottle.

Klaus just looked down at it with wide eyes.

“Can you please just answer me? I really need you to be honest.”

“Why does it matter to you? Because I embarrassed you last night?”

“No, you idiot! Because I’m worried about you! Weed is one thing, but this? You seriously could have died!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Klaus said. Then, after a pause. “Okay, I made a dumb mistake, I knew it was a bad combo.”

Allison braced herself to ask a question she feared she already knew the answer to.

“Have you been sober at all during this trip? _Don't_ lie to me.”

Klaus looked stricken and shockingly reminiscent of his younger self during one of their father’s endless lectures.

“A little? Sort of? I did leave the grass at home, like you said.”

“That doesn’t sound like a yes.”

“It’s not exactly a no, either. I did my best.”

“If your best is being high for most of a weekend, then you have a problem.”

And there it was.

“That’s not true. I have this handled. It’s being sober that’s the problem, really. It’s just not as fun that way.” Klaus played this like a joke, but Allison was far beyond falling for it.

“You need to get help. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

Automatically, Klaus recoiled from her authoritative tone. On unsteady legs, he started making moves to leave.

“On that delightful note, I do believe my flight leaves this afternoon, so I’ll just be seeing myself out.”

“Klaus, stop! Listen to me,” Allison called out, but Klaus was already shoving clothes into his bag with one hand and putting on his flip flops with the other.

“I do appreciate the hospitality, and I’d say we should do this again real soon but—”

“I heard a rumor…”

“Don't you dare—”

“I heard a rumor that you went to rehab.”

“Are you kidding me?” Klaus demanded, but Allison could see in his eyes that it had worked.

“I’m sorry, Klaus. It’s for your own good.”

 

* * *

 

 

Weeks later, Luther called.

“What did you say to him?” he asked. “Diego and I have been trying to get him to go off the pills for months.”

She huffed out a short laugh.

“What do you think I said? You should have told me it had gotten that bad. I had no idea.”

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought you knew.”

“Have you heard from him at all lately? He won’t answer any of my calls.”

“No, nothing. You’ll have to try Diego.”

The next time she heard from Diego, it was to inform her that no one had seen Klaus since his four-week stint in the rehab facility he’d wound up in.

 

The next time Allison saw Klaus, it was three years later. At her wedding, he arrived quite clearly high out of his mind.

 

Well, she thought. At least she tried.

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind, Allison grew a lot as a person through being a mother and through deciding to stop Rumoring people into getting her way. It was fun to imagine a pre-series Allison who really doesn't know how to handle not getting what she wants. 
> 
> I spent waaaay too long writing this and I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts on how it turned out. And who knows, maybe I'll write more about the gradual estrangement of the Hargreeves siblings in the future because there's just so much interesting, deeply angsty material there.


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